Writers in Residence: Dennis Cruz
Los Angeles poet Dennis Cruz shares his words and his life all month.
Raw, honest, and open. If you've been keeping up with June's Writer in Residence, Dennis Cruz, then you've crawled through some dark shadows and had a few laughs on the way here. I had a chance to converse with the man himself, get some thoughts about life in our fair city of Los Angeles, family, drugs, music, and reading...
The fear comes and i coil myself into a corner
Where the insects hiss bad dreams into my
Open ears and the blood pools in the pockets
Of memories where all those broken lives
I thought you had invited me for beers. I thought that’s what people meant when they said…come over and party I didn’t know about the other kind of party unless it was acid but acid was still called acid and people still said come over and let’s do some acid ...
carousels of bending limbs /
flickers of the bloodlight / bouncing
bones erected / fences and walls
torsos bruised / capillaries singing
I can’t remember now if I knew or if you knew before we headed over there that it was going to be an acid party. I don’t even remember where the acid came from or why there was so much or who did some and who didn’t. I remember me and you did two each. I remember that girl started kissing a boy, then a girl, then the boy and the girl...